[OTA] Final Details

[intotherough]

A couple months work with a pair of surprisingly capable helpers - and a third who was good at taking care of the more delicate odds and ends - and the pub was pretty much done. Not open yet, of course, but if you managed to get past the tall Scot working on the outside window, you'd see a fairly impressive sight.

Comments

[bitchwithabite]

Feet brought a woman far out of her way and toward familiar roads, more often than not, when her mind was elsewhere. Occupied with things like fine-tuning her motor control to dual wield and attack effectively. Like how she was handling Jordan's return and integration, and how she was going to get back to Six before the end of the year, if she had her way.

She'd noticed the construction in the last few months, of course, but stopping outside the front door (had it even had a front door last she saw it?) had her eyes sweeping toward the name on the window. MacKinnon's, huh? At any rate, it looked nice -- or, at least, from her peeking, it did. Craving stirred at the thought of being inside a bar again, of having a cold beer in hand and savoring the taste on her tongue. Her hand came up without her intention, aimed toward the door handle. Just...one drink.

The place wasn't even open yet.

[intotherough]

It was not open, but the owner was bent over the pool table lining up a shot - on his 'lunch break' so to speak - and he flicked his eyes up when the door opened, his brows raising up.

"We're not open yet," he tells her as he sends the six-ball into a corner pocket. "Another week yet." He doesn't have a cook yet, though it can't be that hard to manage a deep fryer.

[bitchwithabite]

She's a little bit startled at the sound of his voice, and it has her shaking her head. "Yeah, no, sorry. Looks great from the outside; had to see if it measures up on the inside, y'know? And it...really fuckin' does, actually." One brow climbs a little bit, though.

"If you're a week from opening, I'm sure I can get one beer outta you, huh? Pay ya for it and everything." She's here after all. May as well test drive, right? Just one. One won't kill her or ruin her recovery. No one even needs to know about it. Especially not Jordan, Ethan, or Clive.

Or Victor, for that matter.

"Our little secret."

[intotherough]

"There a reason you're not going to one of the bars that's actually open, lass?" Not that he's not hanging up his cue and moving behind the bar. Might as well test the taps, and he's always been more of a whisky man. Victor and Monty are the same, just with different sorts of whisky.

He gets down a pint and nods at the taps. "I've got Guinness, Harp, Stella Artois, Innis & Gunn and some thing called Angry Orchard. What'll it be?"

[bitchwithabite]

Walking in and locking the door behind her -- so that he's not invaded by other patrons before actually opening, of course -- comes easily, as does sliding onto the bar stool across from him and tipping her head at him. "Other bars're actually open. I'd have to deal with people." It's partially a joke. Mostly it's just to cover her ass, since she hadn't meant to open the door at all.

Irish, Irish, Belgian, Scottish, or American cider. Hmmm. "Let's give the Innis and Gunn a shot. Interesting choices to have on draft, huh? Sets you apart, or somethin'." It's conversational, anyway. She's not good at that, though, so please -- have mercy.

[intotherough]

"You could say," Ben says blandly, "that I had some strong opinions on the choosing committee." Though it wasn't like Victor actually drank much beer. But much like he also thought he ought to have painted every wall green, he was always going to have distinct preferences in that way.

"'Tis out of the fair capital of Scotland," he tells her as he pulls from the keg into a pint. "More of a microbrew than the other three. Not a fan of socialization, are you? I know a number of people of that sort."

[bitchwithabite]

"The owners of those strong opinions got strange taste, but whatever." A beer was a beer, and in a time of desperate craving, any beer would do. Just one.

"Never been to Scotland, or too much of anywhere else. M'sure the beer's good, though." She's happy here, mostly. Unlike most people, she feels no need to travel elsewhere.

She also feels no need to try to justify her serious issue with being around too many people at once, so instead she'll shrug. "I'm kinda notorious for not playing well with others. Not a whole lot of 'em, anyway."

[intotherough]

"They can be a bit odd," Ben says with a flicker of amusement in his brown eyes, before he shrugs.

"Scotland's a beautiful place," he tells her. "But perhaps a bit too bitterly cold to visit this time of year." Least the part of it he's from, which is far north of Edinburgh.

"I'd say that can be something of a Spade trait, though, isn't it? I somehow doubt your Ace gets good marks in that, either."

[bitchwithabite]

"Yeah, see, I'm good with minimal cold. Even this blows, but I can't do much about it. I can voluntarily just. Not go to Scotland in the middle of January." It's fairly teasing, at any rate. "Still, I believe you when you say it's gorgeous."

Not playing well with others is a Spade trait? Amy snorts. "Are you kiddin'? Julien may as well be a top dollar escort, he gets on with people so good." With a chuckle aimed down at the bar, she shrugs and chuckles.

"Really, though, I know plenty of Spades who do well with other people, and I know plenty out of other Suits who don't. I can say I'm one of the crowd less likely to stab people, for what that's worth.

[intotherough]

"Right," Ben says. "I don't know what I was thinking, that charm is legendary." Not that he's ever met the Ace of Spades, but he was there for the aftermath of Victor's last disagreement with him. And there was good reason that half the Deck thought he'd assassinated David.

"It's worth a fair amount, I'd say," he says. "Generally not the way to make friends and influence people, to my thinking. Ready for a second, or keeping it to the one?"

[bitchwithabite]

She winks at him, raising her chin. "You oughta look into being at the end of his charms, man. It ain't pretty." Not even a little. The first and only time he'd drawn steel on her, she was cowering against the door like some pitiful child rather than the proud daughter of the King of Spades she was. Oh, how things change.

"Glad to hear it. I was doubting its worth for a little while there, so. Thanks for the reassurance." A broad grin, and a considering expression while she looked down at her glass, already far too near empty for her liking. "One more, I think, and then I'll get outta your hair."

Just two beers. Not enough to offset sobriety, really, but if she cuts herself off after two like she's saying, she'll be able to say that she's got more self-control than she's given credit for. Right?

So she drains the glass, then sets it back down on his side of the bar, chin in her hand.

"Of all the things you coulda opened, why a bar?"

[intotherough]

Knives were generally good at scaring the pride out of anyone, no matter who their father happened to be. People wielding them tended to not give much of a damn.

He pulls her another beer and sets it on the bar, and shrugs. "I like pubs," he says. "They are what you want them to be, you know? You can make it a party, or you can come to one to be alone."

[bitchwithabite]

Tracing her fingertip over the rim, Amy nods. "Still easier to be alone in a bar with that sort of environment, y'know? It's Mooseknuckles compared to the Four Suits. Totally different environments, and that's just how it is." But hey, it isn't a complaint.

"I got a good feelin' about this one, though. Think it'll work out good for you, MacKinnon."

[intotherough]

"It better," Ben says, dryly. "I've got no desire to go back to orienting sassy new Diamonds." He'd seen the skeptical look on the HR department's collective face when he'd submitted his resignation, and Diamond pride made him refuse to come back to it, even if it failed.

Or maybe it was Scots pride, but it amounted to the same thing, really.

"I like Mooseknuckles better, I've got to say. There's a gloss to the Four Suits, even if it's a pub. It's more like a fancy pub, where you can get artisan microbrews and shepherd's pie made with fresh lamb and organic vegetables."

[bitchwithabite]

Orienting anyone is a shitty job. Amy doesn't envy anyone involved with it, so more power to him for getting out of it. Applause, applause. See? She's so polite.

"Oh, I agree. Four Suits is good if you've got money to burn, a fancy taste, or your name is Jordan Novak and you want a party halfway through the year for no reason other than to have one." But hey, Amy loves him anyway. That's the trouble of having affluent friends, but oh well. She gets over it and moves on. "I do like Mooseknuckles. It's a good spot, and not too popular with people as a general rule."

Well, most people just aren't looking for a seedy place to have a drink, is all.

[intotherough]

She's practically the reincarnation of Emily Post, or one of those other ubiquitous etiquette columnists.

"Ah yes, Jordan Novak." There's no particular tone to it, just...pure bland. Ben's heard what's happened, of course. Of course, it's not nearly what happened the last time Victor challenged - or any of the times before, though that was before Ben's time in the Deck. And for all that it's getting whispers, it's no different than what he and Ciaran had done in alleys and on docks when he'd been helping move goods for the IRA. "Well, I'm sure Diana loves him and the like of him. Just like Mooseknuckles loves the likes of you, me, and Leona."